by Lydia Dare
“And as dishonorable as you are, obviously.”
“I’m not dishonorable, my lady. I saved you from Hadley, just as you asked.”
“Do you always twist everything for your own benefit, my lord?” she taunted.
“Only every chance I get,” he replied with a grin as he finally deposited her on the floor of a large bedchamber. It boasted heavy drapes and a huge, four-poster bed.
Maddie folded her arms across her chest. “Take me to my father now!” she demanded, her toe anxiously tapping on the hardwood floor.
The earl shook his head. “Are you accustomed to ordering all the men in your life about? Is that what you did to Hadley?”
Maddie’s heart clenched again at the sound of her husband’s name.
“Well, that won’t work with me, Madeline. I’m used to giving orders, not receiving them. So sit down and behave.”
She wouldn’t sit and behave. Not on his life. “Just where exactly are we?” She looked around the opulent room.
“Master’s chambers,” he said absently as he sat down on the edge of the bed and began to tug off his boots.
How dare he do such a thing in her presence? Maddie managed to keep from gasping at his audacity. “And where will I sleep?” she asked.
He patted a spot on the mattress beside him. “Right where I can keep my eyes on you,” he said with a big grin. Then he yawned widely. “Don’t want you running away while I’m asleep.”
“Oh? Do you sleep with your eyes open, my lord?”
“I suppose you’ll find out, won’t you?”
If only she had a knife to thrust into his back as soon as he closed his eyes. Maddie frowned as she walked over to the window. She rested her head against the beveled glass and wished Weston would find her. But he probably wasn’t even looking for her. He probably thought she’d left of her own free will. Which she had, of course. The whole debacle was no more than she deserved. “If you think I’ll share your bed, you are sorely mistaken.” She glanced at him over her shoulder.
“You already said as much,” he replied with a nonchalant grin. Then he sobered a bit and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I don’t particularly like the idea of taking Hadley’s leftovers. So you are perfectly safe with me.”
Leftovers! How dare he!
“I have a score to settle with Hadley. But you can relax. You’re not my prize. You’re my bait.” He yawned widely. Then he crossed to the door and opened it. He looked back over his shoulder at her. “I’m more than parched. Would you care for something to drink?”
“I don’t want anything you have to offer,” she said. Her stomach grumbled in response, which made him smile.
“Suit yourself,” he tossed at her. Then he slipped out the door and closed it behind him. She very nearly clapped her hands with glee at being left alone. But then she heard a key turn in the lock. The blackguard had locked her in. Now she had no chance of getting free. She dropped onto the edge of the bed. There was a time when she would have flung herself across it and cried herself to sleep. But that didn’t seem quite as effective if no one was around who cared. Dovenby wouldn’t be scared of her tears the way her father or brothers were. He wouldn’t care at all. In fact, he’d probably laugh.
Maddie once again crossed to the window and looked out at the cloud-filled sky. Rain still pounded the windows like the hooves of a runaway team. She remembered another time and another window, not all that long ago. She’d seen Weston Hadley carrying a body across the lawn at Castle Hythe, and that was what started all this mess. She shoved at the window and winced when it creaked loudly but opened a tiny bit. Rain washed over the sill.
Freedom was within her grasp!
She pushed at the window with all of her might and it moved again, just enough for her to climb through. Though Maddie could barely see two feet in front of her, she was fairly certain she could make out the stables in the distance. If she could get to a horse, her problems would be solved. She threw one leg over the now-drenched sill, sat on the edge and dangled by her waist for a moment, and then she threw caution to the wind and shoved off.
Twenty-Four
“We have to stop for the night.” Gray gestured with his head toward an inn up ahead.
“We have to find her,” Wes insisted.
His twin growled. “You’ll be no help to her this evening, Weston. You can barely keep your seat on the horse. We’ll start our search first thing in the morning.”
Wes knew his brother was correct, but he couldn’t stomach leaving Maddie to Dovenby’s whims. “How about if we eat supper?” he suggested, hoping to appease Gray.
His brother pushed his mare through the rain, and headed the last few yards to the inn with Wes right on his tail. As soon as they handed their reins to a stableboy, Gray asked the question he’d asked all day. “Have you seen any crested carriages today?”
“With the rain?” the lad asked. Well, it was worth a try. Wes started for the taproom entrance, but the lad’s next question stopped him short. “Whose crest is it? We get some fribbles comin’ through here every once in a while.”
“The coach belongs to the Marquess of Eynsford,” Gray remarked. “I doubt you’ve seen it this direction before.”
An idea occurred to Wes. Other fribbles frequented this area of Scotland? “What about the Earl of Dovenby?” he asked. “Have you seen the earl’s coach in the past?”
The boy’s eyes lit up. “Oh, aye. Are ye lookin’ for Lord Dovenby?”
For the first time that day, Wes’ heart filled with hope. “We are.”
The stableboy shrugged. “I havena seen him for a while, and certainly no’ today with the storm. But ye might want ta try lookin’ at Strathwell.”
“Strathwell?” Wes repeated.
“Aye.” The lad nodded. “Won the stables from Mr. Ross in a card game from what I hear.”
“Gregor Ross?” Gray asked.
“The very one. Do ye ken Mr. Ross?”
They did, indeed. Gregor Ross had the best stables in all of Scotland. “I heard Dove had started breeding horses and running the circuits,” Gray said. “I didn’t know he’d taken Ross’ stables.”
“Can you tell us how to get to Strathwell?” Wes asked the stable lad.
“Of course, sir. Ye’re nearly there as it is. Ye follow the main road until ye come ta a small church. There’s a fork in the road right after. Ye want ta veer ta the left. After about a mile ye’ll see Strathwell Manor.”
“You’re not even going to let me eat supper, are you?” Gray asked, exhaustion laced in his voice.
“We’re so close, Grayson.”
“Yes, yes.” His brother sighed. Then he climbed back atop his mare and looked at the stable lad. “Main road. Church. Left at the fork in the road. Then we can’t miss the manor. Is that correct?”
The lad nodded. “Aye, sir. Ye got it.”
Wes quickly mounted his gelding. Together they barreled down the main road, following the stable lad’s instructions at every turn. Finally, a manor house loomed in the distance and Wes took a deep breath. Maddie was nearby; he could feel it.
“Just for the record,” Gray began with passion as he blew a torrent of water from his lips, “I’m fully prepared to help you bury Dove’s body.”
“There won’t be enough left of him to bury,” Wes drawled. Then he kicked his mount closer to the entry gates. He’d kill Dovenby when he saw him. He’d eviscerate him. He’d demolish him with his bare hands.
Wes didn’t stop to knock as he burst through the front door. He growled low beneath his breath when an aged butler called out to him, but the sound of his growl must have been more than the man could bear. The servant turned himself toward the corner and faced it like a good little beta. “Where is my wife?” Wes barked.
The butler pointed toward the stairs, his hand shaking in fear.
“Find Dovenby,” Wes said to his brother.
But just then, the earl sauntered around the corner. “Ah, Hadley, what a surprise,”
Dove said casually. He held out a glass. “Whisky?”
Wes smacked the glass out of his hand. “Where is she?” he growled, grasping the earl’s jacket with his hands. If he didn’t know better, Wes would think he could shift into wolf form at any moment because the beast inside him was so strong.
Dovenby looked down at the broken glass and spilled whisky. “Has no one ever taught you any manners?” he asked.
“Where is my wife?” Wes snarled.
“Calm yourself, Hadley,” the earl said, his tone flippant, but less so than normal. Still there was a quiver beneath his words. Dovenby must have finally realized the consequences of his actions. “She’s safe.”
“She’d better be.” One hair out of place, and so help him God, Wes would knock every tooth from Dovenby’s head and then he’d start removing appendages.
The earl sighed. “She asked me to help her escape you.”
Wes didn’t believe that for a moment. Not after all they’d been through together. Not after the night Maddie had married him. Not after he’d made love to her. “Where is she?”
“In my chambers. Top of the stairs to the left.”
In his chambers? Wes growled low in this throat.
Gray clapped a hand onto Wes’ shoulder as though to calm him. “Go get your lady,” he said. “I’ll take care of him.”
Wes pushed the earl away from with such force that he heard the wall Dovenby fell into actually crack.
“Lucy Reed asked me to give you something,” Gray remarked conversationally.
But Wes didn’t look back as he ran up the stairs three at a time, not even when he heard Dovenby howl in pain after Gray’s fist met his nose. A startled housemaid slunk back against the wall with a gasp as Wes ran past her. He turned the key in the keyhole and flew through the first door on the left as Dovenby had instructed. However, no one was inside and the window was open. One of Maddie’s ruined slippers lay on the rug. He picked it up and looked at it. Love won’t keep my daughter in slippers came back to taunt him once again.
He rushed to the window and looked out at the grounds below, but he couldn’t see a thing for all the rain. However, he could smell her. The faint scent of rosewater and the rather strong scent of citrus lingered in the air. Wes dashed back down the stairs and ran toward the front door and out into the night, into the pouring rain. Maddie was out there, somewhere in the pouring rain. She was probably drenched. And cold. And miserable. And alone. And it was all his fault.
Wes saw a shadow moving in the distance. But he couldn’t tell if it was male, female, or equine, and Maddie’s scent had been washed out completely. He hugged her slipper to his chest. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, “Maddie! Madeline!”
Her faint voice reached his ears. “Weston?”
Dear God, she sounded like she was winded. What had Dovenby put her through? She wasn’t made for rigorous activity. Through the pounding rain, he didn’t even see her or hear her when she barreled into him. “Maddie?” he said, catching her by the shoulders. But she was climbing all over him. Kisses rained down on his face.
“I knew you’d find me,” she cried, her voice choked with emotion.
“Of course, darling.” Wes scooped her up in his arms and carried her back toward the house.
As he entered through the front door, he heard his brother and Dovenby say, “Oh, dear God,” in unison.
Wes didn’t have time to stop for them. Maddie was cold. And wet. And dirty. And she smelled god-awful. He strode up the steps and down the corridor, and burst into the chamber where he’d found her slipper. Slowly, he lowered her to her feet. “I found your slipper,” he said lamely, and held it out to her. But she threw herself against him again instead of taking it.
***
Wes brushed her heavy locks back from her face and drew Maddie into his arms. “I’ve never been so happy to see anyone in my life,” he said, his voice gravelly with an emotion Maddie couldn’t name. She swiped at the mud that had begun to crust beneath her eyes. Wes grumbled and set her away from him. “What the devil is that smell?” he asked. Then he leaned close and sniffed at her hair. He grimaced. “I think it’s you, darling.”
“It’s just mud. It doesn’t smell that bad,” Maddie said, sniffing her forearm. There was a slight scent reminiscent of a horse farm she’d once visited. But that was all.
Wes grimaced. “That’s not mud, Maddie.” He crossed to the corridor and bellowed loudly for a servant. Low voices she couldn’t understand reached her ears, mumbling. Then Wes closed the door and turned back to face her. “Not to worry. They’re bringing a bath.”
“Thank you,” she said. She couldn’t think of anything more than “thank you” to say to her husband? This was a sad state of affairs, indeed.
“Oh, Maddie, you’re so dirty,” he said slowly.
Maddie looked down at herself. She was. Filthy. And she didn’t care. She’d gotten away from Dovenby with her own cunning and her own intellect, and Wes had found her. She’d put forth commendable effort to escape her captor. And all her husband could think about was the fact that she was dirty? Maddie shrugged. “A little dirt never hurt anyone, did it?”
Wes scratched at his nose and avoided her gaze. “We’ll get that off you in just a moment. Please don’t get upset.”
It really wasn’t that bad. She’d made a genius move when she’d painted herself with the mud near Dovenby’s stables. “I’ve been abducted, not once, but twice. All in a very short span of time.”
Wes raised a brow at her.
“Once by you and once by Dovenby,” she clarified.
“Of course,” he said quietly and motioned for her to continue.
“And now you’re worried I’ll be bound for Bedlam over some dirt.”
Wes coughed into his closed fist. “It’s not dirt, Maddie,” she thought she heard him mutter.
“Beg your pardon?” Perhaps the rain and cold had done things to her sense of hearing. “Of course, it’s dirt.”
Just then a scratch came on the door and Wes said something that sounded like, “Thank God,” as he turned to open it.
Several servants entered with a large tub and buckets of steaming hot water. A slight maid followed with towels and soap. “Would ye like some help with yer bath, my lady?” the maid asked with a small curtsy.
Actually, she would. Maddie would love for someone to wash her hair. To pamper her. To take care of her for a few minutes.
“I’ll help her,” Weston said, breaking into her musing as the other servants filled the tub with water.
“My lady?” the maid asked, eyeing Wes as though he was the last man on earth Maddie should choose. In truth, he looked just as bad as she did. His clothes were plastered to his body, just as hers were.
“I’ll be fine,” Maddie said, waving the maid away. As the lass slipped out of the room, Maddie watched Wes closely. “I feel like I’ve missed something,” she said, running through events in her mind.
“Why are you covered in that… stuff, Maddie?” Wes asked as he hitched a hip onto the end of the footboard.
Maddie grinned. “Well, Dovenby let it slip that mud masks scents. So, I thought I’d have a better chance of getting back to you if I used it. Did I do all right?”
***
She looked like a child waiting for approval as she stood there watching him. He was amazed that his mild little Maddie had had the fortitude to escape Dovenby by painting herself in mud. But it wasn’t mud. It was worse. Much worse. Should he tell her, or should he just wash it off her body and be done with it?
“I am missing something, aren’t I?” Maddie mused, her head tilted to the side as she looked at him. She didn’t even look like herself. She was painted brown, and her hair hung in a muddy mess around her face. She brushed a lock back, but it flopped back against her cheek with a wet plop. It trailed down to her lips. Her little pink tongue came out to lick her lips.
“No, Maddie, you don’t want to do that!” he cried.
“Do what?” she asked, looking a bit bewildered. “What is wrong with you, Weston? You haven’t even tried to kiss me since you found me? Aren’t you happy to see me?”
“Ecstatic.” God, he’d never been happier to see anyone in his life. “But let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”
Maddie nodded, and he pushed her shoulder gently to turn her away from him and began to work the fastenings of her gown. “You don’t know how happy I am you found me. I wasn’t certain how I’d manage to walk all the way back to the border and I lost one of my slippers, I’m not even sure where.”
Wes chuckled; he was so happy she was safe and that this nightmare was over. “I found it in here, darling. But we are going to have to find you a pair of slippers that won’t go missing every time you turn around.” He peeled the gown from her skin and let it drop in a heap at her feet. The dress would have to be burned at this point. “Don’t step into the tub, Maddie, just stand here until I can get this off you.”
She looked longingly at the tub. “Can I at least put one toe in the water?”
Wes laughed again. He couldn’t help it. “Darling, I plan to let you take a nice luxurious bath, but you won’t want your water contaminated.”
“It’s just mud, Wes.”
There was nothing else to do. He had to tell her. “It’s not mud, Madeline. It’s dung. You have painted yourself with wet horse dung. I can’t believe you can’t smell it.”
“I don’t have a nose like yours…” she said hesitantly.
“You don’t have to have a nose like mine to smell dung, Madeline.”
She held her hands out to the side, and tears welled in her pretty eyes. “I thought that’s how mud smells.”
“That’s not how mud smells, darling,” he said with a chuckle. “Now let me clean you off. I’ll take care of all of it.”
“I have dung in my hair?”
“Not for much longer,” he said, trying to placate her.